


Roaming with a hungry heart

by zinjadu



Series: And not to yield [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Biotic Shepard (Mass Effect), Bisexual Shepard, Colonist (Mass Effect), Except kicking ass, F/F, F/M, Family Loss, Gen, Kid Shepard, Shepard was never good at much, Sole Survivor (Mass Effect), Teenage Shepard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22292128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinjadu/pseuds/zinjadu
Summary: Zahra Shepard was a kid from nowhere special.  She was no one special.  Until she found a reason to pick up a gun and fight.  Then she finally found something she was good at.  Shame she wasn't good at much else.Snippets of Zahra Shepard's pre-game days.  Small, quick reads to give shape to what comes later.  Updates Monday and Thursday.
Relationships: Female Shepard & David Anderson
Series: And not to yield [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604602
Comments: 49
Kudos: 14





	1. Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby's first biotics.

Zahra pressed her hands to her ears. The babies were crying and they were _loud_. “DAD!” she yelled. Oh, right, she remembered Dad wasn’t home. That meant, “MOM!”

The babies only cried more.

They were small. Well, Norah was small. One year old, and still not good to play with. Karima was a little better. She was two, and could do more than crawl and scoot on her butt. But Zahra was _five_. 

“You have to use your _words_ ,” she told them. That’s what Dad told her. They turned big brown eyes on her, eyes that didn’t understand. Karima’s little face scrunched up before she babbled something. 

Norah was still crying.

Toys scattered all over the living room floor, Zahra held up each toy to try to get them to be quiet. These had all been _her_ toys once, but she was too old for them. She got big girl toys, so it was good that her baby sisters had these ones. But they didn’t want the stuffies or the blocks or the puppets or any of the other brightly colored things.

All of a sudden Zahra felt like crying. Mom and Dad should _be here_ . Where _were_ they? They’d said, but she couldn’t remember. Her teeth hurt for some reason, and she felt something funny in the back of her head. Her vision got wet, like when she opened her eyes under water, and then the world went blue. Bright, electric blue like a cartoon.

The toys started to float, little bubbles of blue around them. Zahra could feel those bubbles, little staticy fields that crackled and buzzed on her skin. 

Her sisters stared at the floating toys with big, dark eyes, with little blue circles in them like shadows. The crying had stopped, and little mouths hung open in wonder. Zahra giggled and waved her arms around wildly. The toys spun around, whirled through the air. The back of her head started to hurt. All sharp and bad and hot.

Something in her mouth tasted funny.

“Zahra!” Mom stood in the doorway, her mouth hanging open. The toys dropped. Karima and Norah started crying again, and Zahra’s face was on the floor of a sudden. She curled into a ball, not able to remember falling.

Then she was up, Mom holding her, rubbing circles on her back. Dad stepped through the door and picked up the babies, one in each arm. They snuggled into his chest, but Dad looked at Zahra first. “Is she alright?”

“I think so. Looks like that exposure did have an effect.” There was something angry in Mom’s voice, and Zahra didn’t like it. Was Mom angry at her? She couldn’t stop shaking, and she was cold.

“Mom,” she whimpered.

“I’m here _ahuva_ , Mom’s here. You’re just a little sick, but you don’t need to go to the doctor, alright?”

“Miriam, she needs to be examined.” Dad sounded mad, too, now. Zahra didn’t want that. She’d just wanted the babies to stop crying.

“Jonathan, if they find out, no. No, I won’t let that happen. She’ll just have to be careful.”

Dad frowned, but his face broke into a soft smile when he looked at Zahra. Zahra reached for him. Mom held her so tight though. “Zahra, _ahuva_ , you have to listen to me now.” Mom tipped her chin up and made her look at her. “You can’t tell anyone what you did today, alright? Can you do that, my bright girl?”

“I _promise_.” And she did, she promised and she meant it. She didn’t know what she’d done, but it must not have been good. Mom was upset and Dad was worried. 

She’d just wanted her baby sisters to stop crying.

But for a moment, when all the toys had been flying around, and it had been _her_ doing that. The world, _she_ had felt bright, like Mom always called her. Like she had a star inside of her.

“Come on, Zahra,” Dad said, “let’s go get ice cream.”

Magic words, ice cream, because she felt all better. Wiggling happily, she asked, “Sprinkles, too?”

Mom’s lips turned down, but Dad kissed Zahra right on the forehead. “Sprinkles, too, Zee.”

Later, after she’d been tucked in, Zahra stared up at the ceiling. Maybe what she had done hadn’t been _bad_. She never got ice cream with sprinkles after being bad. Maybe she really did have a star inside of her. Stars, she knew, were the brightest things in the universe.

She dreamed, then, of shooting across the night sky, a trail of toys in her wake, and Karima and Norah giggling below her. It was a good dream.


	2. Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day the batarians came.

The white light seared through her eyelids. Heavy, booted treads thumped around her. There were voices, shouting. 

“Contact!” 

The sharp report of a rifle, but not like the rifle Mom taught her how to use. Faster.

“All clear!”

A low moan in her throat, Zahra tried to move. Hard surface, manufactured, not natural. Grit worked into her hair. Her head pounded, and her mouth was desert dry. One breath, then another, _ten deep breaths, Zee_. Dad always said that. 

She rolled over onto her stomach and yelled as a burning agony flared in her left shoulder and down her arm. Zahra raised a hand to shield herself, but cried out as fire burned through her shoulder. Whimpering, she forced her eyes open and winced against the glare of floodlights.

“Hey! We got a live one!” The boots came closer, crowding in. She wanted _up_. Had to get up.

“Whoa, whoa.” There was a hand on her pain-free shoulder, and she swallowed thickly. Her stomach wanted to empty itself, but she clamped her teeth together. “Settle down, kid. You shouldn’t move. Call in the medic!”

Zahra didn’t listen to him. She sat up and wished she hadn’t. The world spun, and she put her right hand to her head. _Deep breaths, Zee._ Dad always said give it ten deep breaths. 

“The rifle? That hers?”

“Shit, did she charge them?”

“She’s lucky to be alive.”

Swallowing her pain, she raised her eyes to see the Alliance Marines standing over her. In heavy armor and larger than life. They must’ve gotten here to stop the raid. 

“Fucking batarians.” Her voice was full of gravel, but it earned her hearty agreement. The Marine with stripes on his armor knelt in front of her. 

“Medic’s on his way, kid. Until then, this will have to do. Brace yourself, this is gonna hurt.” He pressed a wad of cloth into the hole in her shoulder, and she hated herself for yelping. “Keep the pressure on it. It was a through and through. You’ll be alright.”

She clamped her hand over the cloth, her blood from the bullet hole soaking through really damned fast. Should it be that fast? Didn’t matter. “What about kids on the landing pad? Batarians were gonna shoot them, _get rid of them_ , and I tried, but if you guys—”

The faces around her fell like stones.

“Kid...”

“Jesus…”

“No! No, you saved them! You’re Alliance!” Her fingers dug into her shoulder, fresh blood staining her hand. “My _sisters_ were on that pad!”

Mom handed her a tiny bundle, she remembered— _This is your little sister, Zahra-ahuva, and you’ll help look after her won’t you?_ Dad cuddled them all close in his arms after he caught them fighting— _You three have get along, and until you do, I’m gonna squish you all together!_

There was only the hum of the flood lights in the night and the blood on the landing pad that gleamed wet and red.


	3. Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can’t go home again.

Bag over her shoulder, Zahra’s fingers brushed the small, grey rectangle of stone on the door jamb by habit. The engraved letter— _ shin— _ was stark under her fingertips. It was just a thing, but it made her stop all the same. 

This would be the last time she left this house. Leaving wasn’t as simple as she’d thought it would be.

The house had been cleaned up—Henry and Charlotte had helped, had stayed with her for days because she refused to leave the house, leave her family’s things—but the longer she stayed the more of a trap the house became. It was cluttered with remnants of her family: Mom’s degrees and cookbooks, Dad’s music, Karima’s art, and Norah’s science projects. Her little sisters’ accomplishments had peppered the house. Of her, there had never been much. She had loved the woods and the wilds and the farm. Had learned to drive on a tractor, had played with her biotics by lifting Henry over creeks and streams. Had kissed Char for the first time on her favorite outcrop.

But this was it. 

Out of this house, off this planet. Away. Never to come back.

The house was empty now. She’d been given one footlocker and a duffel. The duffel had her clothes. The footlocker had everything she hadn’t been able to throw away. Everything Henry and Char had talked her into keeping.

Her fingers curled around the engraved stone, and the static of her biotics built up. The blue coruscating glow wound down her arm and with greater than human strength, she ripped it off the wall. The backing came away and a piece of thin paper fluttered to the ground.

Without the blessing the  _ mezuzah _ was empty. She should pick it up.

Stepping over it—but not on it because there were still some lines she couldn’t cross—Zahra stuffed the ornament into her bag and headed for the landing pad. An Alliance shuttle waited to take her away. The pilot was talking to one of the colony representatives, about what Zahra didn’t care. She flung her duffel down on the concrete and waited.

The rumble of a modified ATV made her head jerk up. Henry jumped out of the driver’s seat, his round face breaking into a weak smile. Char slid off the back and leapt at her, throwing her thin arms around Zahra’s thick bicep like a monkey. Before she could push her girlfriend, her  _ ex _ -girlfriend, away Henry wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Tight. 

Zahra slumped like a cat going dead weight. “I hate you both.”

“Is that anyway to talk to your best friend?” Henry beamed at her. She wiggled her shoulders, but they only tightened their grip.

“Ugh,  _ why _ ? It’s not like I’ve been fun to be around for the last two years. And Char,  _ we broke up _ .”

“But I still  _ care _ .” Char’s jaw jutted stubbornly, and her brown eyes were hard in her completely adorable face.

Zahra glanced at the pilot, hoping he wouldn’t see. Not a good way to start her new life. She shrugged.

“Come on, don’t be like this. We just wanted to say goodbye.” Once, Henry’s wheedling and their combined overt affection would’ve worn her down. Like water over a stone. But now, it made her eye twitch. Her hands curled into fists, and her biotics hummed to life. 

“Well, goodbye.” Her voice was flat, and Char’s face twisted with anger.

“God, you can be such a  _ bitch _ , Zee. Everyone lost someone. Not just you. Promised you I’d try Henry, but she just wants to be the tragic victim, and I’m so tired of it.”

Ex-girlfriend stomping away, Zahra felt one last tie stretch and snap. Good. One less reason to come back. Henry crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her. He wasn’t taller than her by much, but it was enough. “I think she really is done this time. And you know… I might be, too. I thought, man, I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that when it came down to it, my best friend was still in there. But she’s not, is she?”

Her shoulders hit the shuttle, solid and reassuring. The one way she had out of here, away from the memories of Karima reciting the blessing every Shabbat, of Norah bringing home another perfect report card, Karima’s steady patience, Norah’s bright inquisitiveness. And Mom and Dad, their faces beaming with pride, and Zahra in the background making sure her sisters were safe.

Except the one time she hadn’t.

“Nope.”

Henry sighed.

“If you ever decide you want something you left behind, let me know, alright?”

The pilot shook hands with the colony rep and trotted back to his shuttle. “Which one of you is Shepard?”

“That’s me,” she answered and picked up her duffel. Henry shuffled back, already forgotten.

Mindoir didn’t have anything she wanted. Not anymore. When the shuttle breached atmo, she fixed her eyes on the stars and knew that her future was out there. If she had one at all.


	4. Forged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zahra Shepard finds the thing she's good at.

They cut her hair.

Always had worn it long. The one pretty thing about her. Hair as dark as the black between the stars, and heavy and thick and soft. The rest of her was less appealing, forever gangly and covered in scrapes from some bit of farm work or scrambling through the forest. Then there was the hawk’s beak of a nose she’d gotten from her mother, which made her face an  _ interesting _ one, but never pretty. 

Karima and Norah had been pretty. They’d had perfect little noses and with their big dark eyes; they both would’ve grown up to be total knock-outs. She had Dad’s height and grey eyes that sat oddly in her dark complexioned face. Like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit together.

They pushed her.

Up before sunrise wasn’t a problem. A farm kid, she knew how to do chores while her body begged for sleep. But not five mile runs in full kit until her legs were jelly, not pushups until she dropped, not climb up the rope until her arms were on fire. Then when her body was worn out, they put her in a classroom and forced her to do math and chart flight paths. On little and less, she ran and ran and ran.

And when the recruit beside her stumbled, she learned that it was her job to pick them back up. The other kids talked about missing home, but a few were like her. The drifters, like rogue planets shot out of their solar systems. They settled into orbit around each other and didn’t talk about homes they didn’t miss or families they didn’t have. They compared times, scores, and when she fell, familiar hands grabbed hers and pulled up.

They gave her a gun.

She finally found what she was  _ good _ at. All her life, she’d tried to fit. Farm work had been fine, and she’d been average in school when she could be bothered to show up. Norah had been the intelligent one. Karima had been the artistic one. Her sister’s futures had been bright, talk of university even before high school. Not so for her. 

But on the training ground, in the yard, she could turn herself lose. 

They put a chip in her head.

No way to hide her biotics, they didn’t cart her off to be studied. Instead, the drill sergeants pushed her to use them more and more, until pulling a target off their feet came as naturally as pulling a trigger. And no one called her a freak for it.

They called her name.

“Shepard!”

The snappy salute was pure reflex now, and she barked a crisp, “Sir!” 

“At ease, Shepard.” The drill sergeant had seen combat in the First Contact War, and liked to remind recruits that he was nicer than a turian sergeant. She dropped into parade rest. “You haven’t put in your division request yet.”

“Lot of choices, sir. Wasn’t sure which one would be the best fit.”

“Mind a bit of advice, recruit?”

“No, sir!”

“Forward division. You’d be wasted in the sky, or in rear support.”

“Everyone wants to be first out there, sir.”

“And not everyone gets to.” A rare smile cut across Sarge’s craggy face. “Turn in your request, Shepard. Deadline’s a minute to midnight. As you were.”

After lights out her fingers drummed on the screen of the datapad. The box next to the 157th glowed an empty outline. One of the best forward divisions the Alliance boasted.

“Fuck it,” she muttered and tapped out her choice. 

They made her whole again.


	5. Survivor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akuze was just a bit too quiet.

“You hear that?”

Petey’s eyes went wide and stared into the dark of the night. Other heads turned, and Zahra glared past the dull yellow circles of light from the lamps. No chirp of crickets or any insects she knew; the world was silent. There was a cough and a clack of equipment, and just like that the tension broke into a laugh. Petey—fresh out of Marine Boot—went as red as his hair. Toombs threw an arm around the kid’s shoulders. “Maybe its a ghooooooost.”

“Shut up, Toombs.” Petey shoved the other man away, but Toombs only cracked his cocky grin and held his hands up.

“No need to get riled up, Petey.” 

“That’s enough,” Zahra drawled. “Toombs, Chen, Luna, you’re up for the perimeter check.”

“Last I checked, you weren’t LT,” he shot back. His face always made her knuckles itch, but he was a Marine. Her brother in blue. They’d get drunk and punch each other in a bar on shore leave like god damned adults, not scuffle on a mission like stupid kids.

“Last  _ I _ checked, Shepard still outranked you, Toombs.” Lieutenant Alvarez turned a bland gaze on Toombs. Like a scolded dog, Toombs slunk off, Chen and Luna giving him all the shit he deserved. “And O’Riley, get some MREs around.”

Petey ran off. Poor kid. Made the mistake of listening to a vid from home where the rest of the squad could hear, and it’d been all downhill since. Alvarez shook his head. “You can’t protect him forever, Shepard.”

She shrugged. “Toombs needs a boot in the ass sometimes, sir.”

“One of these days, you’ll learn to pick your fights.”

“Hey, I only pick fights I can win.”

Her lieutenant raised his eyes skyward and muttered something in Spanish. She caught the word  _ dios _ , and grinned. Alvarez frowned at her. “Help O’Riley with dinner.”

Punishment doled out, Zahra didn’t mind so much. Petey was a good kid. Needed a bit of toughening up, but he’d get there. They all did, sooner or later. After all the food—or so the Alliance claimed MREs to be—was passed out, Zahra sat with the kid as they dug in last of everyone.

“Can’t let the others get to you.” She chewed mechanically at her food-like-substance and didn’t pay attention to the label. That only led to disappointment. Petey’s jaw jutted out, but his head hung low.

“I  _ know _ I heard something. And I swear, I can feel something in my boots.”

“Rocks?”

The kid’s shoulders hunched forward, and Zahra resisted the urge to sigh. How’d she get stuck with the new kids all the time? She wasn’t exactly maternal—not like Chen fussing over the ones all fresh and shiny out of Boot—but they gravitated to her like planets in orbit. All she ever did was tell it to them straight, just like how she’d wished adults had talked to her after the raid. 

“Alright, sorry about that one. We all got rocks in our boots. This whole damn planet is off.”

“ _ Exactly _ .” His head shot up, and bright blue eyes held hers. “The whole pioneer colony is gone, but the buildings are intact. But there’s no evidence of a fight. That’s some weird shit, right?”

“Weird as fuck, kid. But seeing stuff like this, it can make a body sense things that aren’t there. Read a thing on it once, it’s—”

The ground pulsed.

“You felt that! You had to!” Petey’s shout drew everyone’s attention. Alvarez held a fist up for quiet.

A rumble shook the earth, making tiny rocks skitter along and knocking the lanterns over, but before anyone could so much as pick up a gun one of the Makos flew across the camp and suddenly Alvarez wasn’t there anymore. The ground broke apart meters from her feet. Zahra pulled Petey down and away and shouted, “LT is down! Someone get eyes on the bogey!”

_ Something _ rose up from the ground, a massive, undulating presence that roared. Flecks dropped from a gaping, ragged mouth and where it hit armor or flesh it ate away both equally. Men screamed and the sharp report of rifle fire answered the creature. 

“Luna, Toombs, get to the second Mako!”

“Roger!”

Zahra, hand still around Petey’s arm, dragged him behind her through the chaos. He recovered himself enough to shake her off and toss her a gun. Shotgun, for all the good it would do her against that  _ thing _ . They needed  _ rockets. _ Heavy artillery. Maybe a nuke.

The creature roared again, screaming into the night, and the heavy body slammed into the ground. Struggling to remain upright, she curled her fist and the static of her biotics crackled to life. Not that she could hurt something of that size, but she could at least give herself a bit more protection. “See, LT,” she muttered, “I know how to pick my fights.”

Ahead of her, the second Mako whirred to life. Its turret swiveled around, searching for a target. 

“Toombs! Do you see it?”

“It went underground, Shepard!”

“Shit.”

All around her, tense, thin voices called out. Some names got an answer. Others didn’t. In between was a round of “what the fuck was that?” and “think it’s gone?”

The ground trembled, and she turned to the kid. “Get to the LZ!” she ordered and ran for the Mako. She needed to be driving it if the others were going to have a chance. 

Before her eyes, the second Mako rose into the air as terrifying jaws clamped around, dragging it down. Metal screamed in protest even as the acid ate it away. Skidding to a stop, Zahra could only stare in horror for one long second as Toombs and Luna reported their struggle with the hatch. Then there was a terrible crunch as the Mako was rejected as unwanted. The normally unruly vehicle tumbled end over end until it rolled to a stop and was silent.

“LZ!  _ Now _ !” she yelled. But the creature slammed its body down again, taking out more men as they ran. Petey bared his teeth as he fired into its side. The worm-thing swept its body to the just over the ground. It knocked him down, but she thought he might be alright. Just stunned. Scrambling to the kid, she turned him over. His chestplate was crushed from the impact.

“Fuck!” she bit out, but she didn’t have time to spare. They had to run. 

There was no winning this fight.

“Disperse! Regroup at LZ!” she screamed over the comms.

But they didn’t listen. They clumped up and made themselves easy targets, all their Marine training telling them to stick together. And it killed them. Then it was just her and the monster in the night. It reared up against the starry sky and screamed.

Teeth bared in a rictus grimace, Zahra stopped caring about winning and started caring about  _ hurting _ . She unloaded with her shotgun. Every bullet bounced off. The worm-thing opened its mouth and roared, sending gobs of acid raining down. She rolled away, but a splat of acid grazed her right side. A hiss escaped from between her teeth, and the acrid odor of melting armor filled her nose. Her suit blared warnings at her that it was compromised.

Not helpful.

The creature reared again, and she watched as the gaping maw came straight at her. Static charge built up over her skin, and she threw her fist out like she could punch the fucking thing straight down its god damned gullet. A brilliant ball of blue, too tiny to do any real damage to something so large, hit the tender flesh of the inside of its mouth. The body flailed about in screeching agony rather than devouring her, and Zahra wasted no time in staggering to her feet and limping away as fast as she could.

Her skin burned, but she grit her teeth and didn’t stop. The heavy body crashed into the ground again, breaking the earth and sending stone flying in a scattershot of debris. Tiny rocks cut along her exposed side, but she barely registered it underneath the gnawing acid that made her skin bubble and fizz.

Fuck that had just been a  _ graze _ .

Chen had gotten a face full of it.

She reached the rocky outcrop of the LZ and dragged her body up the narrow defile. Behind her, the worm wailed at her escape. It didn’t try to get at her here for some reason. Maybe it couldn’t see that far in the dark? Or the more solid composition of the stone here prevented it from pulling off its favorite trick? She didn’t know, and some part of her didn’t care even as her Marine training told her to remember everything about first contact with a new enemy.

Heavily, she sat down right in the middle of the landing zone, calling over the comms for her squad. There was no answer; she hadn’t expected one. Some grim fasciation kept her quiet while the worm batted at the two destroyed Makos a bit more, roared, and slithered back underground. 

Then she called for a pick up.


	6. Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talk therapy was never Zahra’s preferred coping method.

Zahra’s head lolled over the back of the overstuffed couch. It took all she had not to let her leg bounce and up down. Two months. She’d been off duty for two whole months.  _ Recovery leave _ . That’s what it was called. More like  _ time to figure out if you’re too crazy to serve _ . 

“Are you sure there’s nothing you’d like to talk about today?”

The head doctor spoke in a chipper clip, like his cheerful nature could rub off on her. She fixed him with a blank stare and he gave her a week-chinned unctuous smile in response. Some people might’ve found it reassuring. His face made her knuckles itch.

“Think we’ve been over it already, doc. I lost my squad to a giant, acid spitting worm from underground. It was fucked up, not gonna lie about that. But might as well as get mad at a bear or a storm. Or God.”

“Do you believe in God? According to your record, you don’t have a religion listed.”

“Mom was Jewish, Dad was agnostic.”

The doc’s lips thinned at her non-answer, but he wasn’t out yet. “I believe Peter O'Riley was the youngest member of the squad. I have a report that states you were mentoring him?”

She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Was it hard to lose someone you were mentoring? Did it remind you of your little sisters at all?”

Her chest constricted, but she was a Marine and she kept her composure. 

“No.”

He shook his head and clucked his tongue regretfully. Fingers tapped on a datapad. Notes about her  _ psychological well-being _ and  _ survivor guilt _ . Or worse:  _ capacity to continue to serve _ . She knew,  _ knew _ the fucking shrinks had the power to drum her out of the service. Out of the very place that let her put herself back together.

Shit.

Zahra sighed and sat forward, her arms on her knees. The doc sat up and blinked owlishly, his hand hovering hopefully over his datapad. She cleared her throat, stalling for a little time. “Look, I’m not. Losing people hurts. Doesn’t matter how it happens. And you always ask  _ why them and not me _ ? That’s just human. But sometimes there isn’t a reason. My sisters died because some fucking slavers thought killing them was better than setting them free. My squad died because a giant  _ worm _ did what giant worms do. Which apparently is eat people. And it’s shit that O’Riley died. He was a good kid, and would’ve been a good Marine, but you can’t fight a storm, doc. Even I know that.”

Watery blue eyes shone, and the doc sat forward eagerly. “Would you say—”

“Sir! Sir, you can’t go in there, sir!”

The door opened and a tall, well built man of middle years in Alliance blues strode in like he owned the place. A sure gaze zeroed in on her, and his face broke into a brief grin. “Shepard, I presume? Sorry, always wanted to use that line. Forgive me, Doctor, but I’m only here on Arcturus for a short period of time, and I needed to make this stop now or not at all. It’ll only be a moment of your time.”

The last was directed at her, and she nodded silently. Someone who could overrule Alliance shrinks? Would wonders never cease.

“Whoever you are, you can wait. We’re in the middle of a session, and—”

“Oh, my apologies, I didn’t introduce myself. Commander David Anderson.” 

The doctor’s jaw dropped, but Zahra fought to keep a grin off her face. The whole service knew about David Anderson. One of the first N7s. There was no way for weak-chin-water-eyes to keep him out. Not if this was N business.

“Honor to meet you, sir,” she said, standing and saluting. Anderson looked her dead in the eye, and for a long second she had the sense of being measured inside and out. 

“At ease, soldier.” He waved away her salute. “I’ve got an offer for you, if you want to hear it.”

“Didn’t know these got personally delivered, sir.” Anderson merely raised his eyebrows at her backtalk. Zahra ducked her head and coughed. “Sorry, sir, used to talking to the doc. Would be happy to hear the offer, yes.”

“Tell me, Shepard, how do you like the sound of twenty hour days, grueling training, and no thanks or reward for your trouble?”

“Sounds like a terrible sales pitch, sir, but I must be a bit warped, cause I’m in.”

“Zahra,  _ please _ .” The doc practically wailed. “You aren’t done processing your trauma yet. Throwing yourself into training like this will only teach you to repress instead of handle your emotional reactions.”

Her grey eyes, the color of a sea in a storm, trained on the shrink that had poked and prodded at her until she’d nearly cracked. “The only cure for a bad job is to be better than before. And that’s what I’m going to do. Get better.”

“Excellent!” Anderson boomed. But his grin was as sharp as knives, and his dark eyes glittered like he longed to kick the doctor, too. Or maybe that was just her projecting.

There, she’d learned something from this experience after all.

“You’ve got an hour to get your kit and meet me at the docking bay. We’re headed to Rio where I’m giving the introduction speech. It’s bound to be a riveting event.”

Her shoulders squared, and for the first time since the Alliance had benched her, she felt that tug forward again. That momentum that kept her upright. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything, sir.”

“Dismissed, then!”

She ran all the way to the airlock.


	7. Comrades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life and times at N-school.

The klaxon wasn’t just loud. It blared straight past her ears, past her brain, and right down into her spine. Zahra shot up out of bed and went through the motions her body had been trained to do. Get her kit, get her gear, lock and load. 

Anderson had promised her hell, and he hadn’t been wrong. Though why she kept coming back was something she couldn’t put into words.

Around her, twenty-odd N-personnel did the same. If all went well, she’d be N2 after this.

It was still pitch dark out. They’d had two maybe three hours of sleep if the instructors were feeling generous.

They didn’t often feel generous.

“Come on, love.” Townsend shouted at her through the pauses in the klaxon, his gutter London accent making his voice gruffer than it already was. “Aren’t we having fun yet?”

Zahra checked the safety and holstered her weapons. “I’ll have more fun when I’m shooting something.”

“Woman after my own heart, you are,” he shouted as they ran through the harshly lit hallway. Through the doors, they burst out into the humid Brazilian night. Anderson stood at the far end of the field, and so they all had to run to where he was. 

“Tonight you’re working in pairs,” Anderson barked at them. Zahra stood at attention like rest. Just because he was her training officer didn’t mean she should expect anything special in a drill. Well, nothing  _ nice _ . “Last team standing wins, and you know what to expect from there. Your objectives are in your kits. First team, Townsend and Shepard!”

Zahra raised an eyebrow at the pairing, but trotted forward to retrieve her objective kit along with Townsend. Rather than reach for the kit, however, he extended his hand. “I’m Miles.”

Like she didn’t fucking well know the Hero of the Skyllian Blitz. The whole story had been plastered over the news feeds while she’d been cooling her heels as a gunny sergeant. His ruggedly handsome face, with that brilliant smile and bright green eyes, had even been on Alliance recruitment posted. He was tall, broad-shouldered, stubbled heroism personified. 

Still, didn’t hurt to be on good terms with him. She clasped his hand and replied, “Zahra.”

“Right, love, you got any tricks I should know about?”

She smiled and kept hold of his hand. The blue glow of her biotics pulsed over her skin along with a little static crackle. Not much, just enough to zap him. Friendly like. “A few. You?”

“Just my winning personality and good looks.”

“So we’re screwed.”

He laughed. Then they read their mission objective and got to work. 

Two days later, after not enough food, sleep, or shelter they were the last team standing, their objective complete. Collapsed into their bunks, Miles held out his fist, and Zahra touched her knuckles to his. They snuck out of the villa later and got the finest, freshest pão de queijo from the first street cart they could find.

* * *

Zahra sat down at the table, placing herself directly across the woman everyone else was leery of even talking to. Jae-min Ahn calmly set her datapad down and raised dark brown almond shaped eyes and gave Zahra the blandest look she’d ever been on the receiving end of.

“You are aware who you are sitting across from?” she asked, her clipped tones like that of every Alliance brat Zahra had ever met. 

“Yup. You,” Zahra said. She took a bite of her sandwich before pointing with it. A bit of turkey fell out. “Are the Butcher of Torfan.” It was a good sandwich, considering it came from an Alliance kitchen.

“How very astute of you.”

“Hey, you were the one who asked an obvious question.”

“And yet, I don’t know you.” Zahra grinned sharply, and that made the frosty expression on Ahn’s face falter. 

“Zahra Shepard,” she said, extending her hand. Knowing Miles had been good for a lot of things. One of them was just having a  _ friend _ again. And without him, she never would have made it through her media training without punching someone. “Survived a thresher maw on Akuze.”

“I wasn’t aware they allowed you into N-School for mere  _ survival _ .” That superior attitude was back, but something flickered behind Ahn’s eyes. Something wary. Or maybe curious.

“David Anderson got me himself. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.” Ahn pursed her lips, and Zahra took her time finishing her sandwich. She wiped her fingers on her pants and took a swig of water. Full, at least for now, she cleared her throat. “It’s like this: I hear you went to Westpoint and got a degree. I need help. Anderson’s got me doing all sorts of study. Ethics, legal codes, the works. Never was good with books, can’t sit still, but you are.”

“And what, exactly, do I get out of this exchange?” One dark eyebrow raised up, and Ahn’s cool features were the picture of reserve. Except her fingers tapped anxiously on the table. Damn, Miles was  _ right _ about people. Always gave themselves away.

“A friend.”

Ahn scoffed and waved the offer away. “I don’t need a friend.”

“Fuck, whoever raised you did a  _ number _ on you. I’m psychologically maladjusted as they come, but even I know everyone needs a friend. You might’ve noticed, no one  _ wants _ to pair with you. They think you’ll all murder them or something for top spot. I’m betting that’s not the case. Or, at least, I can take you if it comes to that.”

“You think you can take me, Shepard?” Finally, a smile cracked Ahn’s face. “I don’t think even you can get a barrier up in time if I have you in my scope.”

“Risk I’m willing to take.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll tutor you, and I accept that you would be a decent partner for certain missions. Ones which require a distraction so I can do the real work. But we are not  _ friends _ .”

Zahra started in on her cookie. She really liked the cookies here. They were brought in from some local bakery, and fuck they were good. “Deal,” she said, extending her hand. Ahn took it and smiled thinly.

When they both made N3, Jae-min’s smile was first warmth Zahra had ever seen in the other woman’s face.

* * *

“N5!” Zahra crowed. Drink in hand, she moved drunkenly to the pounding beat of Brazilian club music. 

“Aren’t we supposed to be, you know,  _ covert _ ?” Jae-min laughed as she spoke, her body swaying actually in time to the music, unlike Zahra’s. The club lights flashed and flickered across her face, pink and purple and green and blue and yellow, and other bodies crowded close.

“The whole city knows what’s in the hills, and besides, who can  _ hear us _ , love?” Miles’s gutter London accent managed to go  _ under _ the music, somehow, and tickled Zahra just behind her ears. 

“And when was I  _ ever _ covert?” Zahra shot back. They hadn’t been able to talk her into heels, but the leather pants and sparkly gold top were fine. The combat boots just ended up looking cool, she thought. 

“She’s got a point. Our Zee was always a punch first, think second kind of girl,” Jae-min teased. 

“Aw, don’t you go ragging on our girl, Jae.” Miles waved his finger in Jae’s face. 

Zahra kept moving just off-time with the music. At least they didn’t rag on her for her inability to dance. “Yeah, but that punching has saved your ass a few times, so I think you should get over it. Now, can we get back to dancing?”

“If that’s what you call dancing,” Jae shouted. Zahra ignored it. The night wore on, and eventually the bar kicked them out. What passed for fresh air hit her, and her head slowly cleared. Their feet took them to the waterfront, where the ocean mirrored the night sky, and the fresh spray of saltwater took the rest of her buzz away.

She leaned on the railing overlooking the Atlantic. “You ever wonder what we do next?” 

“Do next? What do you mean? Like, right now or?” Miles waved as if pointing to some point in the distant future.

“ _ Next _ , we go on a mission. The hardest, toughest missions out there.” Jae gazed at the starry sky, as if she could see her mother aboard her ship, issuing orders. Finally making her career officer mother proud. 

“Well, yeah, of course we on missions, but where do we go after being N7s?”

“We aren’t there yet,” Jae pointed out.

“Will be one day.”

“Up and up, love,” Miles said, chest puffed out. He really was a poster boy. Not like her. “No going back down, that’s for sure.” 

“Come on, we should get back to the villa,” Jae said, tugging on Zahra’s arm. “Probably going to get orders early. You know they reward good work.”

“More work!” Zahra and Miles chimed together. Three bright grins cut through the night, and Zahra trudged back to the villa with the two people who were the only constants in her life. Boyfriends and girlfriends both were put off by her career. Anderson was her training officer, but he wasn’t always on hand. No old squad, no old basic buddies, just her fellow special forces soldiers that kept her from drifting.

What would her life have been like if she hadn’t met them?

They didn’t know all of her. Didn’t know all that she’d lost. And she didn’t know all of their stories. Didn’t share that, but they shared the trenches and the fight and looking down the sight of a rifle.

It was enough for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Jae-min and Miles are the alternate backgrounds for Shep.


	8. Incompatible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zahra tried to have relationships. She was just no good at them.

“Zahra, babe, you home?” 

Duffel bag over her shoulder, Zahra shrugged sheepishly as Stephanie took in the too-familiar sight of her girlfriend leaving on a mission. 

“Technically, yes,” Zahra answered, cracking a smile in the hope that she would take this well. Stephanie crossed her arms under her breasts and instead of those big blue eyes lighting up with anger, they dulled with weariness. 

“You know, this is getting really hard. You’re never here, and when you are, you’ve got one foot out the door.” She pulled at her long honey blonde braid, and Zahra thought about pulling a  _ lets-talk-when-I-get-back _ but something about that left a bad taste in her mouth.

Squaring her shoulders, Zahra stood tall and looked down her hooked nose at her soon-to-be-former-girlfriend’s perfectly sculpted features. A tiny valkyrie, Stephanie. Their eyes had met across a drunken crowd at a club only three months ago, and now it was going the way every damned relationship went. She was an N6, damn it! But all girlfriends or boyfriends or  _ whatever _ cared about was that she had her ass parked on the couch to watch some stupid show night after night.

“Told you that going into this. Never said I was anything I wasn’t. I’m special forces, and this is how it goes. You said you’d manage, that it was  _ fun _ and  _ exciting _ . Nope, guess you’re just like the rest of ‘em. So I’m out.”

With a long stride, she shoved past her ex-girlfriend who sputtered and flushed bright red. “Fuck you, Zahra! Just fuck you!” she shouted as Zahra stomped down the hallway. “Not like I have to ask where to send your shit,  _ cause you never left anything here _ .”

That parting shot stung, and for a moment she thought about turning around and asking to be taken back. Saying that she’d been keyed up about the mission— _ no, you can’t ask what it is, you know this— _ that it was hard to feel like she could  _ stay _ anywhere. That the last permanent home she’d known had been razed by slavers, that the Alliance had given her a place even if a bunk wasn’t a  _ home _ . She could say that she was so fucking burned out on  _ relationships _ that it was hard to feel welcome in one at all.

Her fingers curled around the synthetic fabric of the duffle bag’s strap, and it rasped along her palm. 

Zahra kept her head high and calmly pushed the down button for the elevator. Behind her, the door to Stephanie’s apartment slammed shut. 


	9. Tested

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zahra thought making N7 was the highest she could go. Turns out there was another step to take.

The sun beat down on the parade ground of the villa. Her thoughts circled and whirled under the hot tropical sun. Sweat beaded on her brow and rolled around her eyebrows. 

She was so gross.

But Anderson had been clear: she had to wear her hardsuit. This was tradition, and if the Marines were obsessive about anything (aside from rifles and suicidal courage) it was tradition. The commander of the villa kept droning on about duty and sacrifice and honor. Zahra only half paid attention.

Then Anderson stepped forward on the stage, a black box in his hands. The current N-candidates and those back for their next grade all held their breath. 

“Zahra Shepard, forward!” 

Smartly, she did as requested and presented herself. Anderson opened the box and there it was: her N7 designation. Anderson gave a little speech about where she had come from and what she had done to get here, but she didn’t need to hear it. She’d lived it.

Head high, she waited while Anderson afixed the insignia and stepped back, giving her a salute. She returned it crisply, her former training officer one of the few people worth giving a smart salute too. Then he extended his hand for her to take, and she clasped it eagerly. He put his other hand over hers and pulled her in close and said, “Well done, Shepard.”

And then the party started.

For once, Zahra hung on the edge of things. Sure she couldn’t dance. Didn’t care that she couldn’t dance. Jae and Miles didn’t care, and as long as she avoided high heels and kept to combat boots, her ankles remained unbroken.

But something about this felt anti-climatic. It was like after she’d left Mindoir. There was something untethered about this moment. Something breathless, like it wasn’t quite finished.

Fuck if she knew what would complete it.

* * *

  
“We’re all going to die!”

Zahra was proud of herself that she didn’t sigh or roll her eyes. It helped having the helmet, but as Anderson liked to remind her, it was all about habits. Good habits now might save her ass later. Or at least keep her from causing a diplomatic incident.

“I am here to get you out, and the pickup isn’t far. We just have to stay together and  _ quiet _ .” Five scientists huddled together like scared puppies, though it was a motley collection of people and only one human in the whole lot.

But the distress beacon had pinged the Alliance comm buoy first, so here she was.

Another rocket hit the mountainside, shaking the whole facility and setting off a shower of dust and debris. The salarian coughed, but merely blinked, unexpectedly the calmest of the whole lot. Might be former STG. Or current STG. Hard to tell with salarians. 

“Jesus, I shouldn’t even _ be here _ .” The human was the most nervous of the group, and Zahra felt like he was kind of undermining her by just existing. 

“I’ve got a spare pistol,” she said, ignoring the whimpering. “Anyone have weapons training?”

“I do.” The turian, a female by her lack of crest, stepped forward and checked the pistol over. Sights, clip, safety, and held it like she knew what she was doing. The flanges of her face flared in a kind of smile. “Mandatory military training has its benefits, Lieutenant.”

“Good, you cover our rear, but  _ do not drop back _ . You read me?” The turian dipped her head crisply. “You two,” she said, gesturing at the two asari. “Hate to ask this, not sure about taboos, but we don’t have the time. How strong are your biotics?”

One of them, the lighter blue of the two, puffed up like an angry fish for a second before her friend put a hand on her arm. “The Lieutenant meant no offence,” she said and then turned to Zahra. “We aren’t commandos, but we can manage a few things.”

“Stay in the middle, then, but if you can take a shot and put someone down quickly, do it. Don’t be too obvious, though, or you’re going to be targets.”

“We understand, Lieutenant, and thank you.”

“Alright, we’ve got the data, I’ve got you, and we’re moving out.” 

Cautiously, she slunk out the way she’d come in, the hidden side access that the scientists used to take breaks rather than the heavy, reinforced shuttle bay that the mercenaries were currently firing rockets against. The mountain shook again, and aside from some very annoying whimpering, they were making their way through the facility.

Then the screaming tear of metal was followed by a concussive blast and all hell broke loose.

“Picking up the pace! Stay together!” she ordered, and went from a trot to a light jog, which everyone could match. The clatter of heavy boots on metal grating closed in, followed by the quick pop of pistol fire. She bulled between four of the scientists, waving them to keep going, and she drew even with the turian who was taking cover behind some crates.

“Hey there Lieutenant, glad you could join me.”

“Get out there. You’re on point now. I’ll clean up these assholes.” Then she popped up and unloaded her shotgun right into said asshole’s face. Behind him were another two, and she closed her fist and flung a wild looking punch in the air. The blue corona of her biotics crackled in the air and threw the two mercs off their feet and onto the ground below. A good hundred feet below.

A tight grin flashed across her face as she caught up to the scientists. Who hadn’t gone far. 

The turian woman’s flanges fluttered anxiously, and the two asari flushed deeper blue. The salarian blinked stoically. “Sorry, Lieutenant, the door’s locked and it won’t open.”

_ Civilians _ . She swallowed her irritation. “Then hack it. Keep a few paces back, I’ll signal you to move. But when I signal, you  _ move _ . Read me?”

There were terse nods of acceptance all around. She took up a ready position, and the salarian got to work. Not ten seconds had gone by when the door wooshed open, and she ducked around the corner. The coast was clear so far, but with the tall trees pressed in close it would be hard to see anyone coming. 

It would, however, hide them from visual.

Boots crunching over the dirt, Zahra moved through the trees like it was a drill. Check her points, move up, signal, rinse, repeat, and they were drawing closer and closer to the LZ. The nav point was just ahead when she caught snatches of conversation.

“—what do they even have here?”

“Not our place to question orders—”

“Shit,” she muttered, catching sight of several mercs, and then really wished she hadn’t. Five pairs of eyes trained on her with varying levels of fear. Hunkering down behind some convenient rocks, she turned to them. “We’ve got six mercs I can see, and on the ridge here we can’t go around. Need to go through. Anyone know how to use a shotgun.”

The still silent salarian smiled and held his hand out. No better option presented itself, so she handed it over. “Give me cover, just shoot over them if you aren’t certain. We’ll need to run after this because they’ll have a fix on our position.”

More nods.

She stood, now lacking a gun, and one of the asari spoke up, “Lieutenant, you’re  _ unarmed _ .”

Zahra grinned, closed her fist, and let her biotics flare to life. Both asari blanched. She didn’t have time to handle sensibilities, so she slunk down the hill and picked her way from cover to cover until she was in position. Then two mercs screamed as their bodies glowed blue, and another staggered from a shot in the shoulder. That was her cue.

Rushing forward, a corona of blue sparking over her armor, she punched the wounded merc right in his shot shoulder. He screamed and went limp, his gun dropping from his numb fingers. She caught it mid-fall, and picked her targets. Chaos erupted in a small clearing in a forest on a planet on the fringes of civilized space, but Zahra’s heartbeast was steady. Her grin flashed white, and it was the last thing several mercs saw in this universe.

Then behind her, she heard a click, and she turned just as a shotgun was leveled at her face. 

Her vision went red, and she wiped her visor off to see the merc’s head gone and the salarin standing there with her shotgun tucked in his arms. 

“Nice timing.”

“I like to help where I can,” he said, almost laconically as far as salarians were concerned.

“Let’s move people!” she shouted to the rest, and they made it back to the LZ without further incident. That, the saved data, and the fact that all the scientists were alive didn’t stop her from getting a dressing down. 

Choice words were  _ trusting aliens  _ and  _ Alliance special ops gear _ . Zahra let it wash over her like water over rocks, and she went about filing her mission report and making sure the civilians were holding up alright. At this point, she thought she should learn their names, but she never did. They thanked her, but that was that.

All she could do now was wait for the next mission.

* * *

Zahra tossed her helmet into the ship’s locker. Sweat slicked down her short-cropped hair and she sagged against the cool metal. First her guns, cleaned and stored. Second her armor, also cleaned and stored. Everything cleaned and stored. 

The mission had been another civilian rescue. Another  _ alien _ civilian rescue. She’d gotten them out. Mostly. Delivered to the ship’s doctor a bit worse for wear, not a lick of combat training between them.

“Not their fault they’re not military, Zee. Not their fault,” she reminded herself. Seemed to be happening a lot lately, though. These missions that saw her working with aliens. Not that she cared, really, just that it twigged her strangeness radar. Why was the Alliance doing so much for the other races? Didn’t they have their own special ops? Hell, the STG and the Spectres were the ones she knew about. There was a veritable rainbow of covert types around. So it begged the question. Why her?

Maybe she should talk to Jae and Miles about this. See what their read was. And if they were getting missions like this, too.

Anderson had ruined her by making her take all those courses that encouraged critical thinking. She could have stayed a dumb grunt, but no. Shutting the locker on her clean gear, she sighed, “Thanks for that.”

After a shower and feeling a million times better, she made her way to her small, tiny bunk. It was a little offset in a corner. The cruiser she was on at least could afford space for officers to have a real bed instead of those horrible pods. The message light on her datapad flashed green. She had a message.

_ To: Commander Shepard; _

_ NEW ORDERS: You are to report to Captain David Anderson on the SR-1 Normandy. Rendezvous on Arcturus Station in… _

Heart hammering, Zahra pulled on a fresh uniform and ran to the command deck, presenting her new orders to the captain. He took one look and didn’t so much as sigh. The price of having an N7 on board. Life tended to get weird around her. One transfer and then another, she, her gear, and one duffel bag made it to Arcturus in record time. Eventually she’d get her footlocker back, but for now, she had a new posting to report to.


	10. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never forget the first time you see the one.

Love at first sight was for the vids and books parents read to young children. The whole see each other across a crowded room was more attraction at first sight than anything else, in Zahra’s experience. Then again, it was hard to know if she’d ever been  _ in love _ before. 

There’d been Charlotte, her girlfriend on Mindoir, with her cute upturned nose and giggles. But that’d gone south after the raid. Zahra could admit she was to blame for that going sour. Now, at least. Looked up Char once, and her once-best friend Henry, just to see what they’d gotten up to. Hadn’t left Mindoir and had settled down. Henry even had kids. Good colonists. There’d been no reason to message either of them.

Basic had drummed into her head hard and fast that one did not  _ fraternize _ . She’d pushed the edges of the rule, but had never outright broken it, not within her own squad. Instead she’d found her way to a few bars, met a few people who lasted a couple of weeks or a few months. Once, she’d gone a whole year in an exclusive relationship, but ship-duty kept them apart more than Matt had liked—nevermind he was Navy himself. His letters grew more sullen, and she had come to dread seeing one pop up in her mailbox. 

Had managed to call that one off tactfully, at least.

But this time, this time it was love for certain. She couldn’t take her eyes off the sleek lines and graceful form. The ship was a work of art, and Zahra’s heart skipped a bit to think that  _ she’d _ be the XO on board.

“I know that look,” Anderson drawled. He joined her on the observation deck, his battle-scarred hands curling around the railing. Zahra leaned on her hip against the rail and crossed her arms. “Don’t try to deny it, Shepard. You’re in love. Not that I blame you, she’s a mighty fine ship.”

“You’re the captain, sir. Wouldn’t want to come between you two.”

“Ah, she’s a fine enough vessel. Probably could stand to have more than a few admirers.”

“Appreciate the generosity.”

“Alright, enough staring at her, let’s get aboard. Lots to do.” Anderson waved her to follow. She lugged her duffel in one hand, her footlocker still in transit following her transfer. Their boots thunked on the panels of the docking ramp, and the airlock took its sweet time like always. With a hiss, the door opened and a rush of recycled air hit her.

She filled her lungs, and let her fingers trace the bulkhead for just a second or two. The hum of the ship was unlike any other ship—Alliance or otherwise—and it was like the grand girl was saying hello. Just to her.

“Welcome aboard the Normandy, Shepard.” 

Even in dock the ship had a sense of motion to her. A sense of purpose. An eagerness to fly that sang right down to Zahra’s bones. The dim light and bright orange console interface was all Alliance standard, but the CIC set up looked turian to her. Yet the parts fit together like they were meant to be. Like she was meant to stand on this deck.

She was more than a ship. She was the love of a lifetime, something few people ever got.

“Good to be aboard, sir. And don’t you worry, Normandy, we’ll treat you right.” She patted a panel with a smirk and got a rumbling chuckle from Anderson.

“Get your gear stowed and take a tour of the bridge. See you in the briefing room after.”

“Yes, sir!” She snapped off a salute, snappy enough to let Anderson know she was practically bouncing on her toes. On the inside. His laugh followed her to the elevator, and then she was alone with the Normandy. The palm of her hand pressed flat to the wall to feel that hum again, and a smile curved her hawkish features.

“Oh yeah, you’re the one for me.”


End file.
